The final memorial we visited was in the countryside and was once a church as well. Here, the most frightening moment was entering an old Sunday school building where children were thrown up against the wall to be killed. This memorial also had exposed bone, and in one shed, one could witness the remains of the individuals and their former belongings in one place. For the most part, the other memorials separated the articles and bones; this one did not.
During the whole day, I began to notice the amount of life surrounding the death we were witnessing. Many of the memorials were turned into gardens, and lizards, ants, and even butterflies now call them home. I was talking to one of the program director's before about how I found this calming. One great aunt or some older woman on my mother's side once believed that her late husband was reincarnated as a fly. For this reason whenever a fly would enter her house, she would start a conversation with it. Vicky later chimed in that in Chinese culture, the dead are often thought to become butterflies.
I do not know how I would reconcile and forgive. I would like to think I would, but I cannot be certain. The Holocaust seems so distant compared to this genocide, today, perpetrators and victims live side by side. It seems almost fictional, but the country is adamant in maintaining unity and remembering.
As more graves are found, it is natural to wonder what else is hidden. A Rwandan member of the group says there are still cover ups, so it is an unfolding history. Agahozo-Shalom Youth Village, where I am currently typing this out, was created to help those children directly affected by the genocide, and today, still functions to serve those affected by its aftermath. The subsequent posts of this trip will vary in intensity and subject matter (I can tell you the next one will be about wildlife), so be prepared. More to come soon.